


13191

by neonsign



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5494862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsign/pseuds/neonsign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryoji’s fingers curled around the waistband of Minato’s pants and tugged gently. Minato’s heart skipped a beat, but all Ryoji did was press a cold finger against the skin on the inside slope of his hipbone.</p><p>“What’s this from?”</p><p>Minato propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look, still not letting go of Ryoji’s hand. It was a scar. Raised white skin, roughly the size of his smallest finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	13191

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna probably rewrite this some day eugh

Ryoji’s hands were always cold, but they were soft. No calluses, unlike Minato’s. Warm and rough, soft and cold, and no matter how they held one another the heat never transferred. The only thing that accepted the warmth was the ring Ryoji had bought on the school trip.

Minato rubbed his finger against it as he looked down at their hands, highlighted by the moon shining through his window, entwined even as Ryoji placed kisses on the sliver of skin exposed between the waistband of his low-slung pants and the hem of his shirt. They were gentle, almost chaste but with the promise of more if he so wished.

Just the two of them laying together on Minato’s bed, the homework they were supposed to be doing long since abandoned and pushed onto the floor. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes they kissed, sometimes neither as they just enjoyed one another’s presence, like it filled some hole in one another. And at times, it really did feel like that.

Vague voices floated up to them from the floor below without any kind of discernible words, but they were still easily recognizable as Mitsuru and Yukari. They’d been spending more and more time together lately. The voices sounded especially at ease, and there was even occasional laughter. After the hush October had left the entire dorm in, it was good to hear.

“Oh.”

Ryoji’s fingers curled around the waistband of Minato’s pants and tugged gently. Minato’s heart skipped a beat, but all Ryoji did was press a cold finger against the skin on the inside slope of his hipbone. 

“What’s this from?”

Minato propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look, still not letting go of Ryoji’s hand. It was a scar. Raised white skin, roughly the size of his smallest finger.

“Dunno,” Minato shrugged. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”

“Hmm…”

Ryoji lowered his head and pressed a kiss to it. It was a simple, innocent gesture, only different from the ones that came before by the quick flash of tongue that had Minato swallowing and squeezing his hand. The skin there must’ve been extra sensitive due to being a part of his body that didn’t see much attention. Though that could’ve gone for every inch of him.

“I think it might be from the accident,” Minato said, the hand resting across his stomach twitched as he fought the urge to comb it through Ryoji’s hair. “The one that killed my parents. But I dunno. I can’t remember it that well.”

Ryoji looked up at him, resting his chin on his free palm. “Does that bother you?”

Minato shook his head. “It was a long time ago. If it ever did, it doesn’t now.”

Stroking his thumb against Minato’s palm, Ryoji wore a thoughtful look, gazing up at him with those big blue eyes. Minato looked back, happy as anything for a reason to take that face in. From having his head bowed facedown for so long, his hair was falling about his face and making him look strangely innocent.

“I like that,” Ryoji said eventually, the faintest smile on his lips. “People really are built to survive, aren’t they? I like that a lot.” Minato watched him bring their hands to his lips and press a kiss to the tip of each of his fingers. “All suffering is naturally dulled after a time so people can go on with their day to day lives. Wounds turn into scars –” he pressed another kiss to Minato’s hip, then looked at his ring; “– and everything becomes a memory. But…”

Ryoji frowned.

“It’s sad, somehow.”

Minato squeezed his hand and reached down with the other, touching his cheek. Ryoji leaned into it, closing his eyes.

“I think I’m scared,” he said softly. “Is that what you call this? It hurts. When I think of you and how… these days will become memories, too. I don’t want them to end.”

“Hey, c’mere,” Minato murmured, sitting up against the pillows.

Ryoji obeyed without pause, pushing himself up and crawling on his hands and knees until they were better aligned. Once he was settled on his lap, Minato pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, his nose, then his lips – but when Ryoji responded too enthusiastically, what was supposed to be wordlessly calming sent a jolt through his heart. They parted, resting their foreheads against one another’s and breathing a little too heavily.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“But -”

“What happens, happens. We’re here now.”

Ryoji was talking about the future as if they were about to die. Everything with him always seemed so big and world-shaking; the guy felt everything so strongly – but Minato couldn’t deny the future had never been scarier than after they met.

Minato watched his lashes tremble as Ryoji looked from eye to eye, searching for something. Whether he found it or not, Ryoji nodded, still looking a little sad as he closed his eyes and caught Minato’s lips in another kiss. Cold hand against his cheek, caressing his jaw and sliding down to his neck, and Minato was shivering and melting all at once.

Somewhere beyond that feeling of warmth and intimacy, it was odd to think of how little they actually knew about one another. Their relationship had progressed at such dizzying speeds, swept away in some bizarre sense of familiarity, and certain things had gotten left behind. Big things and little things. Important things all the same.

There was just this feeling of _knowing_ neither could explain and both were willing to fully immerse themselves in. Strong, but dull and muted like some past pain becoming nothing more than a memory. Built to survive, and now they had each other to survive with.


End file.
